It was getting dark. Emily had just come home from work, aching and tired, craving silence, a hot bath, and dinner. Suddenly, someone knocked loudly. Neighbors? Delivery? Unwanted visitors.
“One moment,” she muttered and unlocked the door.
Jake stood there, unshaven and angry, carrying two heavy, dirty bags. Without a word, he stepped inside and hung his jacket. The apartment instantly felt cramped.
“What’s happening?” Emily asked, stepping back.
“It’s over,” Jake snapped. “Sarah kicked me out. I stayed with Tom for two nights, but his dad needed the couch. So now, I’m here.”
Emily hesitated. “Are you staying for good? What about the apartment you bought together?”
“It’s hers,” Jake said. “Mortgage, everything. I’m just the guy who paid for the furniture. She won’t even let me get my stuff.”
“Where have you been?”
“Sleeping in the car, then Tom’s. It’s cold, but manageable. Mom, don’t make a scene.”
“You should have warned me.”
“What’s the point? You’d say no.”
Emily fell silent, feeling the weight of the familiar story—again.
Jake sank onto a stool. “No job, no money, no place. More trouble coming.”
“What kind?”
“Later. I’m hungry.”
She made some potatoes and chicken. He explored his old room; the air filled with old memories.
“What about work?”
“I just left the office a month ago. You don’t believe me, so why explain?”
Emily sighed. “I believe in responsibility, not your ‘startups’ and ‘projects.’”
“You believed in Sarah?”
“Yes, she tried.”
Jake frowned. “So, I’m the failure?”
Emily looked tired. “I’m not angry. Just worn out.”
He went to bed, leaving her alone with the silence.
The next day, Emily found a letter: Jake had overdue loans she didn’t know about, using her address. When confronted, he shrugged it off as small debts.
His sister Anna came by, furious. “You always leave Mom to clean up your mess!”
Jake yelled, “I’ll pay it back! But no one cares I’m struggling!”
Emily finally snapped. “Pack your things. You’re not a kid, and I’m not your bank.”
Jake left, confused and silent.
Days passed. Emily tried to focus on work and avoid the pain. Then Jake returned, tired but honest, with food from a temporary job.
“I get it now. I want to fix this,” he said quietly.
Emily smiled faintly. They cooked soup together, the silence now peaceful.
“I want to make you proud someday,” Jake said.
She nodded.
He left with steady steps. Emily looked out the window, hopeful for a new beginning.
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